


In The Night, He Rides

by Anonymous



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: M/M, Multiple Orgasms, One Night Stands, Trans Eddie Kaspbrak, Vaginal Ejaculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:15:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25793494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Eddie Kaspbrak wants a rough one night stand.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 4
Kudos: 147
Collections: Anonymous





	In The Night, He Rides

**Author's Note:**

> Peeved there was not previously a "vaginal ejaculation" tag, so I made one :)
> 
> Strictly Eddie's POV.
> 
> Warnings: I use the term "cunt" to refer to Eddie's vagina, and I use the word "clit" to refer to his clitoris, so if that bothers you I'm sorry. There's also an undercurrent of anxiety, but it is not tied to Eddie being trans; it's simply just Eddie's general anxiety. There is no discussion to Eddie being transgender, it's just part of his identity and it's just accepted, though there is a reference to a reference of a deadname, Eddie's choice.  
> If further warnings or tags need to be added please do comment below.
> 
> They're in their early 40s, I did not have a specific age in mind while writing.

Eddie would be lying if he said he’s never done this before.

Back of a cab. Smelling and breathing alcohol. The feel of a stranger's tongue running behind his teeth. Hands like mitts running all over his back, chest, face, crotch.

He’s going to have to tip the driver well.

Thankfully, before either him or his...date can get hands in each other’s pants, they’re alerted by their tired driver that they’ve arrived in front of his hotel. 

Eddie sends a mental thanks to Bev for having suggested getting his own hotel room while they were here.

He hears the driver say something about it being twenty odd dollars, reaches in his wallet, throws a fifty in the front and calls out to keep the change. They barely have the door shut before the cab zooms off.

“Lead the way, m’lad,” the man says-- _man_ , Eddie thinks loudly, heart abuzz in his chest. 

“Shut _the_ fuck up,” Eddie bites out before pulling the man’s face down to meet his again before reluctantly pulling back once more, grabbing the man’s sleeve to tug toward the hotel entrance. 

He finds himself thinking about how young he feels to be dragging a man he finds attractive by the sleeve. _Maybe I should grab his hand?_ But he thinks better of it, finding it too intimate. 

The carpet lining the halls trips up his sloppy footwork as he makes his way to his room, hearing a honk of a laugh sound out behind him. 

“Ever learn howda walk, Trip?” And the man thinks himself funny, _genuinely_ thinks his joke is peak comedy. His laugh echoes off the walls, too loud for a hotel hallway at one in the morning. 

Eddie wants to be fucking wrecked by a man that thinks that joke counts as humor. 

Large hands slide around his waist, a body pressed tightly against his, a stubble-surrounded mouth on his neck scratching his skin up delectably as Eddie fumbles for the damn card key. 

“‘Course I fuckin’ did, play your cards right and I'll surely forget," and Eddie feels something akin to pride in the twitch he feels on his ass as he gets his room unlocked. 

The moment they’re inside, the second he hears the locks slide into place, Eddie starts his attempt at ripping off the other man’s clothes. 

“Oh, so you’re not even gonna pretend to offer ordering room service?” Eddie hears the sarcasm, he knows that they both know why he’s dragged a stranger back here, but he stills anyway. 

“Did you want dinner or something?” Eddie’s tone isn’t exactly nice, seeing as he will probably make the man leave if he says anything but no.

There’s a pause, a snort. “Fuck no, dude, I’m messing with you.” The snake around Eddie’s lungs loosens its grip. “Tell me you have lube, though. I only have the condom.”

Eddie thinks about the Astroglide he hastily packed.

“Sure d- wait, it’s not latex is it?” He has his own polyurethane ones in his suitcase just in case.

“Nope, ‘m ‘llergic,” Eddie’s lucky. He hopes that slurring is from being turned on and not from the alcohol hitting him.

“Thank fuck, now let’s get the rest of these clothes off.” 

The following few minutes string out for way too long in Eddie’s opinion. His guest decides to not throw his shit everywhere and instead piles it all relatively neatly on the small, empty desk. Eddie’s naked, sitting at the edge of the bed and is firmly stroking his clit by the time the other man is ready to play.

“Holy shit,” the man appears to swallow his tongue as he takes Eddie in. The man seems appreciative. Eddie hopes the visual is as appealing as the angled dick he sees in front of him.

“Yeah yeah, would you get the condom on already? Please?” he whines, breath hitching as he dips into his cunt. 

“Gagging for it are we?” The man adjusts his glasses. Eddie thinks he should take them off.

Instead of talking, Eddie takes his hand away from his throbbing clit, wipes his self made lubricant on the bed, takes the condom from the man’s hand and in two seconds flat has put the condom on and has his dick down his throat. 

“Jesu-- _fuck_ ,” there’s a hand on his cheek and a high pitched moan hits his ear. He’s not as big as Eddie would’ve anticipated, but as long as he knows how to move he’s not gonna find himself disappointed. 

The man carefully thrusts into Eddie's mouth, even though he'd prefer to choke on it. He's here for a fun time, not a timid time. So he starts taking it deeper while trying to encourage harsher thrusts. He can take it. He enjoys it. If he had more confidence he'd pull off to demand the man fuck his throat raw. 

Eddie gags on his guest for another few minutes before deciding he’s done. He pulls himself off the bed and manhandles the man to his bed, on his back. He flanks the man’s waist with his thighs, noting how _fucking wide_ he is. God. He goes in for a kiss, intending to be messy and sloppy and heated, but his nose hits those fucking glasses. He goes to take them off, but the man tightly grabs at his wrist.

“N-no, those stay on, please.” The nervousness of his voice and the unsure furrow of his brow do not match the harshness of the hand around Eddie’s wrist. He's not scared, but the other man seems to be. He flexes his hand and is quickly let go of.

“Okay, if you want them to get all gross be my guest, man.” the subject quickly drops. Eddie grabs for the lube, quickly slicking up the man’s dick, giving it a little more attention. He enjoys the cutoff moans and groans, wishes the man would let them ring out. He plays with the head a bit, rubbing circles around the slit as the man lets out a gasp that sounds like _fuck._ Eddie likes his one night fucks to be rough and quick, no room for confusion, no room for emotion. He wants this man to be so turned on that while he’s fucking into him, he won’t even think to ask if Eddie’s alright. If Eddie were bolder he'd ask for bruising grips on his hips.

He’s lined up with the man’s dick on the precipice of entering when he’s hit with, “Hey, can I get a name?”

Eddie stills, eyes staring at his hand leaning on this man’s chest. Does he want to give this man his name? Does he want a name in return? Why does this man want a name at all? These questions always haunt him whenever he finds himself in this situation. He fucks strangers because they’re _strangers_. His cunt is still on the precipice of being filled and fuck if he's not tempted to fuck the question out of memory.

“Frank,” and he’s not lying. It’s his name. Well, it’s in his name. An altered version of a deadname that is no longer legally connected to him. He still feels it counts. He gets to decide what counts.

The man nods, clears his throat. “Richie.” 

_Did I fucking ask,_ Eddie’s able to bite his tongue before the question slithers out. He hopes it’s a fake name.

“Now we have the formalities overwith, can you fuck me now?” Eddie’s nerves are going to take over soon if he doesn’t get fucked senseless. _Fuck me, please, fuck me. Fuck. Me._

And apparently that’s all the man--Richie--needed, because even without Eddie’s guidance, he slips right in, right to the root. 

Eddie immediately feels too full, too fast, and he loves the roughness of it. Richie seems to want to let Eddie adjust, opens his mouth, perhaps to apologize if the worried look on his face is anything to go by, but Eddie doesn’t want any of that. He’s already gotten what he wants. _Don’t take that from me._ He starts shifting immediately, bouncing on Richie’s dick as quick as his knees will let him. He’s gonna feel this everywhere in the morning, he always does, but in the moment it feels fucking ethereal. 

What Eddie didn’t take into account while he was gagging on that beautiful crooked cock was that once Richie starting actually fucking him, he’d be able to feel that it. He didn’t take into account that the shape could hit all the right spots within him, and he certainly didn’t account for-

He’s only been riding Richie for maybe twenty seconds before his first orgasm washes over him. Would usually go unremarked if it weren’t for the near immediate follow up orgasm. 

The third orgasm building up feels a lot more intense than its predecessors. Feels more…

He tightens around Richie’s dick, feeling the almost tickle-sensation of his spot being hit perfectly. He feels like he has to piss. He knows what this means, he’s only been able to experience this one other time, alone, with his favorite toy. Briefly he thinks about changing the angle, not quite knowing if he wants to share this particular experience with an outsider. He’s never had someone hit all his spots so perfectly every fucking time before. He doesn’t know how Richie might react to suddenly being more wet than typical. Him and his en suite shower don’t fucking care though. He sees his end in sight and it’s fucking magnificent.

In the end, all it takes is Richie’s thrusts becoming erratic as he chases his own orgasm, and that’s it. Eddie’s high-pitched whiny moan is bouncing off the walls, and his walls tighten around Richie as the pressure within is finally released. Distantly he thinks about the bed. He’s shaking and he’s still not done. He’s still riding on Richie’s cock, which he knows has already been spent, and he’s not fucking done. Somehow there’s more pressure building once more, even though he’s just had his orgasm, it’s not over, and it’s becoming more intense. His thighs quiver, which does nothing to help him calm down, and he’s rubbing at his clit which feels oversensitive yet still unsatiated. Somewhere in his hind mind he wonders if Richie is being overstimulated. 

And then the dam fucking bursts and his vision goes white. He expects a noise complaint tomorrow because surely he’s moaning loud enough. Or perhaps he’s moaning so loud he’s gone silent.

He has no idea how high he went or how long he was gone for, but when he finally starts to come back down, he slams to the ground when he realizes he’s gotten the both of them fucking soaked in his own fluids. Holy shit.

“Fuck,” his throat hurts. He had to have been so fucking loud, rest in fucking peace to his neighbors. 

“Gotta say, I didn’t think squirters were a real thing,” the voice is so fucking out of sorts that Eddie almost laughs. Instead he just feels deeply embarrassed, overly vulnerable, and needs to be alone. He pulls off the guy, dripping from with lube and his own fluids, and he feels too observed. 

“Well if you need a shower, it’s right there. Otherwise, I’d appreciate it if you left.” His voice sounds a little too harsh for how good he still feels. He feels like a fucking asshole. He kind of doesn’t care. 

“Oh.” Silence. “Oh, okay, yeah sure man. I can bounce.” Eddie pretends not to hear the dejection. He listens as Richie moves around, going to the bathroom and coming back out a few minutes later. 

The door to the hotel room opens and shuts and thirteen minutes pass before Eddie allows himself to think how he just let a man who fucked him so good he had an orgasm _while having an orgasm_ walk out of his room without so much as a thank you. 

His visit to L.A. ends four days later, and his flight lands back in New York, and ninety seven days pass and he’s going on another visit to fucking L.A. again and he’s thinking about that Richie guy, and how that night left him sore as hell in the morning. When he opens his suitcase to pack, that’s when he finds a crumpled up bar napkin tucked into the corner, a number scribbled on it. Eddie realizes very quickly Richie must've written it down before leaving the bar, and still decided to give it to him after being told to leave right away. 

He rings it anyway using the landline and the familiar voice and name used in the voicemail is what makes him leave a stupid message.

His flight lands in LAX thirty nine hours later, and fourteen hours after that he’s in a different hotel than last time, still having thoughts of getting noise complaints as he rides Richie's dick through his second orgasm that night.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you thought down below!


End file.
